You Cant Change Your Mind

For what seemed like an eternity, I had been attempting to contact John. I've made numerous attempts to reach his cell phone over the last two days, but he hasn't answered. I had been seeing John for about two and a half years, and he was never the kind to neglect me, so this was unusual.

He just wasn't that kind of person. My fiancé, John Brown, is a gorgeous African American man who stands 5'7" tall and exudes confidence, attracting attention.

With broad shoulders and a sturdy, athletic body that isn't overly slim but maintains a natural strength, his build is strong but well-proportioned. His outstanding features are accentuated by his warm, deep tone and silky, lush complexion.

His powerful jawline, well-defined check bones, and focused, pricey eyes always appear to convey a wonderful narrative. His style is easily crisp, and his hair is thick and wavy. John is a very sophisticated individual who possesses a certain charisma and mystique that might enthral those around him.

John is someone I could always actually rely on John to always pick up, no matter what, because we had always had such a strong bond. There was nothing now, though.

I felt like the stillness was killing me since he was not responding. I kept thinking of that special day when John proposed to me a few months ago.

As John led me to a secluded spot close to the beach on a Saturday evening, the beach sparkled in an inviting glow caused by the sunset.

As my friends stood by, cell phones in hand, joyfully documenting every moment of my proposal, I still managed to see the beautiful glow of the waves gently lapping at the beach.

I looked to my right on that faithful day, john went down on his left knee with a right on his right hand. He had ask me to marry him that same day which I said yes to, we all dinned and feast that same day.

I was able to meet his mother and some of his relative that same day'.

My friends and relatives all came to celebrate our engagement, and the evening had finished in a haze of music, laughter, and clinking glasses. The warmth and happiness of that day persisted for a long time.

How could something that was so ideal become this - this terrible quiet, this impending doubt? I was afraid that something horrible might have happened to John because he had ceased to return my calls.

I made every effort to reach him, including calling, texting, and leaving voicemails, but I received no response from him.

With every hour that went by and every unanswered attempt to contact him, my worry increased. Wondering if I had done something wrong, this made me unease and not being able to each him as the hour passed by did not help. The situation sat heavy on my chest as I sat on the couch in my living room.

Even though I wasn't sure whether or not I had done anything wrong to warrant it, I was considering texting him to ask for forgiveness.